LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

i^Hp- Capijriji^t f 0* 

Shelf -:.Q:3.S 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



SHADOWS 

OK 

YESTERDAY 



BY 



t^^^e^^t^^al^^^ 




^^iTZaaC^v^ 



ROCHESTER, N. V., 
1895. 







Copyright, li^g.s, 

BY 

CHARLES GIFFORD ORWEN. 



It is not my intention to palliate in any way 
the faults of this book, which are only too 
evident ; nor would I claim any fixed purpose 
in presenting it to the public. However, some 
slight explanations may be not altogether 
misplaced: in "Jupiter Fallen," it will be seen 
that the Greek Mythology has been hinted at 
rather than employed. Still, an interest will 
always linger about this subject as about no 
other. Its strength is the strength of the 
Titans themselves, and its delightful dream life 
is unparalleled. I have chosen therefore rather 
to leave it in a dim perspective, than imitate 
what is unapproachable. 

In another poem I have probably taken a 
greater liberty in changing the sex of the per- 
sonified Sin, as established by Milton and 
others; but this act I shall maintain as not 



altocrether inexcusable. 



C. G. 0. 



E. F. RODELL, 

PRINTER, 

ROCHESTER, N. Y. 



CONTENTS. 

Page. 

Yesterday 13 

Jupiter Fallen 15 

The Woods 63 

Boat Song 65 

Days of October 67 

Cartaphilos 69 

When the Grapes are Gathered 72 

The Voice in the Gales 74 

A Coming vShower 76 

ANACREONTIC ODE: 

The I^ibatioii 77 

A Voice of the Sea 79 

November So 

With the Yellow Leaf. 82 

A Song of the East 84 

Tantalus 86 

SONNETS : 

Another Dawn 89 

The Vo3'ager 90 

Hope 91 

Twilight 92 

Sleep 93 

Keats 94 

January 95 

Rhyme of the Phantom Death 96 



YESTERDAY. 

Shadozved and cold the trophies of thy keeping- f 

To-day the air repeats shadozved and cold. 
Where, happy spirit, are thy children sleeping. 

In Parian stone or deep niausolcnni gold ? 
Anszver, free-hearted zaind that zvanderest 

Old grottoes and the zcoods on snninier eve. 
Who all unheeding ever ponderest 

JMidsummer woe whereat thou viayest grieve. 
But thou, O spirit, where the moonlight falling 

Builds her pavilion on the midnight sea. 
Where all the clear and countless zuaves in calling. 

Audibly zueep and iihuruiur tremulously. 
Peer dozvn into its haunted wells, spirit o7ie diz'ine. 

And blur zuith thy pale, eager face its mirrors 
sibviline. 



JUPITER FALLEN 



DRAMATIS PERSONyE: 

Jove. The Earth. 

Saturn. The Sea. 

Apollo. The Mountains. 

Hermes. Spirits, Voices, &c. 

ACT /. 

Scene I — Heaven. The throne of Jove 

shadowed by rainbow-colored clouds. 

Jove is discovered seated, Jiolding a scepter. 

Time, Noon. 

Jove. 
Does not the morning from the East arise, 
To warm our tributary tribes of earth, 
And shine on Terra's wealth of woods and 

vales. 



Jupiter Fallen. 



And lii^lit old Neptune's principalities 
Pouring their clear waves through a thousand 

doors ? 
Am I not ruler? Have I not ordained 
Scepter and sway by my right arm alone ? 
See ! by my law supreme all time approves 
Change changeless, though the stormy-hearted 

years 
Destroy and are destroyed ; the months make 

war 
Upon each other, April conquers March, — 
Wan April, pale as moonlit ivory ! 
Here is my throne eternal, high in heaven, 
O'erbrowing all the world from Atlas huge 
To the dim AraK If the powers bewail 
My empire, let the lightnings cleave in sunder 
The dark dissenters! Lethe shall not cheer 

them 
Nor make forgetfulness their refuge far, — 
Their shadowy habitation. I am king. 

Dim vales are lying far below my throne; 
The heavens and their old foundations deep 



Jupiter Fallen. 17 



Retain their ancient strength ; yet far away 

Above the Stygian shadows, darkness gathers. 

It reeks above the fields Oblivion. 

To north, to south, vague, tremulous, and dim, 

It spreads its wings like some huge bird of prey 

Uprising from the silent woods at morn. 

I know not if presaging good or ill 

It comes, — this Nemesis of day and light. 

Or what it hides beyond. Ah, look I how dim 

The skies are growing I How transformed the 

sun 
Foregoes his rule in the wan firmament I 
My very eagle at my royal wrist 
Stares all amazed in this misgotten night. 

Ho ! Hermes ! Thou art swiftest of the gods ; 
Be swifter still ; bind on thy sandals fleet, 
Pierce yon black vapor and swift bring me word 
What means this apparition. Ho! Away! 

Scene II — The same scene. Time, Evening. 

Jove. 

All day the storms have rode at will in heaven, 



J 8 • Jupiter Fallen. 



Marshaled and dark as for the day of war, 
And all the golden woods together roar, — 
A fitful wailing from the wavering world 
Radiant with Autumn, — all the troubled seas 
Roll, twilight-waved, along the dusky shores. 
At times there comes the sound of rushing hail 
Sudden and swift along the gasping air ; 
At times the sweep of unseen wings ; at times 
Trumpets faint echoing in the distant west ; 
At times the parting clouds reveal the stars 
Between the black pavilions of the storm. 
Listen I Methinks I hear the golden wings 
Of Hermes winnowing the still night air, 
That scarce eliminate the subtle spell 
That overawes the light enchanted breeze. 

{Enter Hermes). Hermes ! 

Hermes. 
Almighty Zeus! arm! arm with speed! 
Another universe is formed in chaos. 
The traitor elements are in revolt, 
Beleaguering thy throne. The Human Mind 
Has overleapt the bonds thou hast imposed ; 



Jupiter Fallen. 19 



And all the powers of air and ocean join 
Close-ranked around his standard. And the 

earth 
Calls thee no more Alnaighty. Many an age 
Have these, begirt with other friendly powers, 
Like miners in their subterranean damps, 
Toiled sleepless, and with muffled hammer- 
blows, 
Beat out the raging thunderbolts of war, 
And stored the heavens with tempestuous hail, 
And bound the loud tornadoes in the deep. 
Waiting this direful day. See, how in heaven 
The lightnings glitter in the jagged clouds 
High o'er this horrid gulf ! Then wait no more, 
Marshal what powers are friendly to thy rule. 
If thou wouldst save thy empire, linger not! 

Jove. 

Peace, Hermes! These unhappy ones shall 

learn 
His fate who wars with the Omnipotent. 
Apollo with the ^egis were enough 
To strike dismay through all yon rebel host. 



Jupiter Fallen. 



Go thou and bid the gods come forth to see 
How Zeus Ahnighty overcomes his foes ! 

{Exit Her?nes.) 

Bold eagle, type of our great victory 

That made us monarch of the universe ! 

Arise into the everlasting skies 

That sit above the whirlwind and the storm, 

And with loud voice proclaim to all the world 

Victory to the arms of Mighty Jove. 

[Jove's eagle rises into the eloiids. 

[ Thunder and lightning in the distanee. 

Scene III — Near the month of the river Peneus. 
Jove stands at the side of the forest. Voices. 

First Voice. 

He would exalt himself for that same hand 
And hear once more the laughter of that voice 
That hath reviled him — the great leveler! 

Second Voice. 
Nay, he would be the Thunderer again ! 



Jupiter Fallen. 



Third Voice. 

Then let us lend him aid ! Ye all remember 
How well he used to reign. How once in wrath 
He hanged his patient wife in golden chains, 
Weighted with Vulcan's anvils, in mid-air; 
And many other kingly acts and wise; 
Or, if he scorns our voluntary powers, 
Let him upheave Olympus! underneath 
Are men of boundless strength. 

Fourth Voice. 

And they will hang him 
Midway between the heavens and the earth, 
Companion of the eagles. 

Jove. 

By the light, 
I know your coward voices for the same 
That sang my hymns in every Grecian grove 
With restless tongues ! Ye then were tame 

enough. 
Look ye for weakness in the Thunderer? 
Go, sing to Tantalus, w^hose grief is light! 



22 Jupiter Fallen. 



Turn round Ixion on a swifter wheel ; 

And lash the lagging Sisyphus! But I ! — 

The very air is bitter on my lips 

As the embittered salt-pools of the sea ! 

Fools! whence has come this triumph in your 

voices? 
I never wronged you. 

First Voice. 
And we wrong not you. 
We sang your triumph ; now we sing your ruin. 

Second Voice. 
Your empire, and your empire overborne. 

Third Voice. 
Nodding your golden locks you oft presaged 
The doom of legions. Nod thy trembling 

head, 
Shaking thy white hair to the rising storms. 
And fix thy ruin in eternity ! 

Fourth Voice. 
And in those remons shall that shade, Remorse, 



Jupiter Fallen. 23 



Sup with thee on thine inmost soul till thou 
Shalt fear to lift thine eyelids up, or look 
On thine attendants ; and the very air 
Shall be which sunlight never shuddered 

through. 
Thy locks shall slowly drift about thy feet 
In the deep silence of thy dread repose 
Of marble breathlessness, and never sound 
Shall make thee rise or ease thy burning 

thoughts, 
Or reach the grey walls of thy solitude. 

First Voice. 

Adieu ! Thy first strong thunderbolt has found 
thee. 

Second Voice. 

Adieu, Thou phantom mockery of might ! 
I see the shadow of an awful doom 
Invade the skies beyond thee like a cloud. 

Third Voice. 
I hear the winds wrenching the solid mount- 
ains I 



24 Jupiter Fallen. ^ 

I hear a voice calling thee in derision ! 

The very trees rock in their leafless joy. 

O, that the earth were cleft to give thee space 

To fall untrammeled by the elements! 

Fourth Voice. 

Adieu ! The sun that kisses thy bare brow 

Shadows oblivion behind thy back. 

So may all powers prove false to thee. Adieu ! 

Jove. 

Betray me, then, false ministers ! For I 
Have no more power to grind you to the rack. 
First, you, black, cavernous sky, upon my head 
With nine-fold wrath your hoarded tempests 

hurl! 
And you, old earth, upheave your quicksand 

heart ! 
I scorn you being powerless : Yet had I 
One thunderbolt from heaven's armory, 
I would deep-bury it within your heart 
Till all your mountains roared in agony. 
And raging seas deluged your continents. 



Jupiter Fallen. 25 

The voices lie! I shall not be cast down, 

There is no shadow o'er me in the sky ! 

Yet in those days on Time's blurred calendar 

My eagle might have dimmed it with his wings ! 

I walk a little paler than the sun 

And make its beams imperfect as they slanted 

Through subtle spray or panes of tinted glass, 

And all the trees of earth around my feet 

Cast off their wildling leaves yellow and red. 

And make the wilderness a type of woe. 

Twisting their branches as if in their forms 

Imprisoned lay dark spirits unabsolved. 

Slow-tortured into sinuous lines of pain. 

How strangely runs this period of day 

And what wild portents ravage its fair light ! 

Exalted hugely in the vapid mist 

There stands an awful form on Pelion, 

Face-hidden in a cloak of purple cloud. 

One rounded, lucent arm thrown back in 

heaven, 
Seems but to witness the world's overthrow ; 
And all the spirits run their airy voices 
Upon the unresponsive ear of earth, 



26 Jtipitcr Fallen. 



Dark-couched full heavily. Now, if again 
Their lips provoke the airs inaudible 
I, too, shall hear them. I will stretch me here 
Unsceptered where the early leaves have fallen, 
Where through sleek stems ascending the wide 

mountain, 
Comes the cold speaking of the waterfall. 

Chorus of Spirits. 
Where slept the Autumn when with music 
stringed, 
As of a shell, hollow and faint with sound, 
The Spring appeared, a maid white-armed and 
winged. 
Pale skies above her, darkening lawns around? 
The seasons answer not 

From where their shadows lie ; 
Over their graves forgot 

Echoes sound deathfully. 
Dryads, in your green haunts. 

Where sedgy rivers flow, 
Speak on the smooth winds lightly ! 
The earth will never know. 

Where ? Where ? 



Jupiter Fallen. 27 



When on their airy harps with shrill complain- 
ing. 

The spirits of the winds were twanging low 
And overhead the skies unholy raining, 

On gluey branches, fitfully and slow, 
Where strayed Apollo then 

Beside his Delian home, 
Singing to the blue main, 

Stilling its silver foam? 
Naiads, in purple deeps. 

Call o'er the waters low ! 
The dull-eared land is dreaming, 

The sea will never know. 

Speak! Speak! 

Voices from the Sea. 

The night-tongues are husht. 
The harbor is flusht 
A league on the waters, 
A league on the land ; 
Light marbles the ledge, 
It crimsons the sedge 
And tips the curled breakers 



28 Jupiter Fallen. 

That jar the worn edge 

Of the rocky crag hid 

In a desert of sand. 

The sails veer and shine 

Along the sea line, 

And rock on the curve 

Of the azure-ridged main ; 

Oceanus lies 

White-crowned and wise, 

As the light falters down 

On his cold, azure eyes, 

WheVe his curtains grow pallid 

And opal again. 

He rises no more 

To the surf or the shore, 

No waves part and whiten 

His fury before ; 

Old Neptune seems dead. 

Grim Triton is sped, 

Together the naiads 

In terror have fled 

To the caverns deep-rent 

In the ocean's wide floor. 



Jupiter Fallen. 29 



Forever we flee 
About the wild sea. 
We sleep and awaken ; 
Like shadows are we 
Who carry the song 
Of the old gods along, 
And the winds follow after, 
A whispering throng ; 
But we wait for an echo 
Of what is to be. 

Jove. 

How the clear echoes gather and diverge 
Along and up the mount I They make my mind 
Reel in a wrathful shame ! They sing Apollo I 
Jove is forgotten ; yet they hymn the sun I 
All through their song I heard the words 

accurst : 
" Thou, Jove, art fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, 
No more to reign upon thy regal mountain ; 
Go, take thy place among the shadows, fallen I" 
Cry, spirits, howl aloud with monstrous throat 
To dull or drown the voices that within 



30 Jupiter Fallen. 



Assail me ! From the depths of your wild 

hearts 
Proclaim who reigns or who at last shall reign. 

Spirits. 

Not thou, nor time alone, 

Around about whose throne 

The spirits of the winds and clouds and light- 
ning, 

Awaiting sharp command, 

In lines of order stand, 

Or o'er the deluged world thro' caverns 
whit'ning 

Unsheathe their fires and smite the folded rains, 

And drench with wide, blue storms the levels 
of the plains. 

None other scepter rears 

Amid the coming years ; 

The fallen pleasure house and temple broken. 

With smoothened marble arch, 

Check not Time's endless march ; 

Forgotten are the rites of worship spoken. 



Jupiter Fallen. 



And still the tenors of unnumbered creeds 
Change with a people's voice safe modeled to 
their needs. 

It is necessity 

That sways all things that be, 

And will and force arc minions — nothing 

greater: 
Whatever yet has been 
Fashioned without, within, 
This is its modeler and sole creator, 
From where the farthest east, withdrawn ofold^ 
Lowers vast, to where the sun expires in flying 

gold. 

The days across the lands 
Troop by with joined hands, 
While yellow-haired September nods and pines ; 
An amber flush has spread, 
Slow-deepening to red. 

Where twilight lingers on his heavy vines, — 
Autumn's endearment breathing of repose, — 
Thin smouldering spires of smoke and norland- 
gathered snows. 



32 Jupiter Falleti. 



Around the joyous earth 

Awakes a sound of mirth 

From the deep caverns of the soulful weather; 

The days and nights invade 

New breadths of sun and shade, 

While husks and golden fruit are strewn 

together. 
The air is silent in its fruitful pause 
Ere skies begin to rave at Nature's moveless 

laws. 

Days and unnumbered days, 

And earth's unrestful ways 

Are swallowed in the burden of all time: 

Customs are shriveled up 

As water from the cup 

Upon the hot sands of a desert clime. 

What fades shall shine again ; what now is seen 

Will pass and reappear with ages lost between. 



Jupiter Fallen. 33 



ACT II. 

Scene I — A cave under Olympus. Saturn is 
seen bound ; a huge rock lies upon him. 

Semi-chorus. I. 

Hear ! hear ! hear ! 
Let your faces be wild tho' your voices are 
dumb 

Or quaver in accents of fear! 
Ye knew of a day and an hour that would come. 
They come — 

Semi-Chorus II. 

While ye speak they are here. 
And the day and the hour 
Have arrayed them in power, 
And the heart of the fallen is drear. 

Echo. 
The heart of the fallen is drear. 



34 Jupiter Fallen. 



Semi-chorus I. 
Rejoice ! rejoice ! rejoice ! 
And call to the storm-beaten mountains, for 

they 
Will be glad at the sound of your voice. 
Then what will the deep-sounding wilderness 

say? 
It cries — 

Semi-chorus II. 

But loud laughter destroys. 
Hearts aching with mirth 
Shall be found in the earth, 
As they thrill for the titan, their choice. 

Echo. 
They thrill for the titan, their choice. 

Semi-chorus I. 

Moan ! moan ! moan ! 
Ye voices distraught with an eloquent grief. 

The titan is not on his throne. 
Look not where he lies like a storm-faded leaf; 
But shriek — 



Jupiter Fallen. 35 

Semi-chorus II. 

For Saturn us alone. 
For the leaves wan and red 
Have been strewn o'er his head, 
And the last of the forest are blown. 

Echo. 
The last of the forest are blown. 

Saturn. 

If strength arises from the noble will 

That dares all things and yields to none, why 

then, 
I still am strong, who liaving all things dared, 
Now lie amid these rocks, crushed down and 

held 
By iron-embedded bonds, and cast in night 
Immutable — such these eternal chains. 
Shut from the world of universal day 
And from the crystal labyrinth of stars 
That glitter on the dewy locks of night, 
Lucent, and bright, and still, I yet survive 
My kingdom, daily struggling with this curse 



36 Jupiter Fallen. 



Of immortality ; yet this I know, 
That I shall rise again ; although it seems 
Another doom hangs o'er me, darker, deeper, 
Than these prodigious rocks. Then let it come 
In shape of mouldering time or deepest hell, 
This spirit shall not yield, but in its ruin 
Exult triumphant through all time to be. 

{^A rushing sound is heard.) 

I hear a sound as of a roaring wind 
Above me, or of swiftly-moving wings 
That drain the spirit of the still, cold air. 
'Tis gone, and all is still ; but, through the dark, 
One enters fair as was Hyperion. 
A star-like splendor plays upon his hair, 
Bound with green plumes of overshading pine, 
And underneath that white celestial brow 
His eyes gleam wildly, and his lips are red, 
But not with earthly color. I will speak : 
Spirit, who enterest these awful caves, 
Whence comest thou ? 

Spirit. 
From Indian fields afar. 



Jtipiicr Fallen. 37 

My coursers rested there when day was o'er 
And the cold moonh'ght passed. For as I 

tarried 
Beneath an overbranching tamarind tree 
That grew in a deep vale of Himaly, 
Breathing of poppies drowsed beneath the 

moon, 
One passed who bore aloft a written roll 
That shone like jeweled silv^er or the wand 
Caduceus of the swift-winged Mercury. 
Then said the spirit, pausing with slow wing 
Upon the delicate air : " My course leads far 
Into the midnight, but do thou seek out 
The cavern where the broad-browed titans lie 
Under Olympus. Bid them follow down 
The monstrous night to Demogorgon's cave. 
This he commands whose messenger am I." 
And, so obedient to the spirit's wish. 
My coursers bore me o'er the hollow winds 
From India. Above the deep green fields 
And many slow-waved river in its rest, 
Star-tenanted, we took our rapid course. 
Fleeter than when from off the Libyan sands 



38 Jupiter Fallen. 



The swift simoon seeks in its headlong flight 
The Mediterranean with her azure waves. 
Thus have I sought thee even as light would 

flee. 
Arise, and follow for the dawn is near, 

Saturn. 
Does not Olympus claim me for its base, 
And tower its woods above me? 

Spirit. 

But thy nature 

Is free to glide thro' the wide universe, 

And such as earth and all her elements 

Retain not. 

Saturn. 

Look upon these iron chains! 
(Tremendous weight to load upon a god) 
Wrought by darkMulciber, Jove's artful smith, 
Of ninefold power ! 

Spirit. 
Such was their strength, but now 
They are as links of sand. Therefore arise! 



Jupiter Fallen. 39 



I bid thee hasten for within an hour 
The East will redden into rosy streaks, 
When I must flee away to other lands 
Beyond the day, unto the prince of spirits. 

{^Saturn arises.) 
Saturn. 

My heart leaps with the falling of these chains 
That rust not in their brightness nor grow dim ! 
Has Zeus no longer strength to make them 
■ strong? 
Or does he think his ancient foes are dead? 
Speak, I adjure thee by thine inmost soul. 
And mock me not. 

Spirit. 
My words are said. 

Saturn. 

Yet speak. 
Spirit. 

No more. What ye would ask lies deeply hid 
Beyond all words. For this alone I came. 



40 Jupiter Fallen. 



To bid thee seek the cave of Demogorgon. 
My hour bids me depart. Great shade, fare- 
well 1 

Saturn. 

Prophet, whose eyes look through my v^ery soul! 

Who art thou ? 

Spirit. 

What availeth it to know? 
One of the race of mortals, who like thee 
Is freed from the base elements of earth. 
My name is "but a w^ord. Again farewell. 

{Spirit vanishes.) 

Saturn. 
Farewell to thee! and hail eternal night! 
Now must I rouse the titans from their sleep, — 
And then the cavern. Ai ! Ai ! Away! 

Scene II — A cavern beneath the sea. Most of 
the old gods assembled. 

Jove. 
You all know well the story of our doom, 
How Jove, )our mightiest, was overawed 



Jupiter Fallen. 41 

Into a weak submission. On that day, 
Alone I sat upon th' Olympian mount, 
Looking upon the golden scales of fate 
That weigh the lives of nations ; and behold 
Mankind was trembling in the balance, matched 
Against my empire : and I then had laught 
To see the nations sunk to deepest night; 
Aye, even earth from her foundations rent. 
Hurled down to ruin. Then there rose a 

sound 
That moved about the borders of the hill, 
And creeping, ever soft as winnowed air, 
Stole round me till I rose and looked abroad 
Across the earth, along the sunlit mountains ; 
But all was silent even to the sea. 
Then feel Plutonian darkness. Destiny, 
Riding upon the blasts of adverse strife. 
Had w^helmed me down, but other powers 

denied. 
Yet fear upon me fell which gods alone 
Can understand, when from no certain bounds — 
And still no form appeared from hueless air — 
Arose a voice, whereat my heavenly breath 



42 Jupiter Fallen. 



Hissed through my nostrils, and my heart 

grew faint, 
While yet I strove to speak, but found no words. 
And then the voice, which seemed the half my 

own. 
Spake out and taught my pride this vain 

despair: 

" Thy tyrant soul shall sway the seas no more ! 
Arise and get thee down, and after thee 
Drag down thy number of the chosen stars 
To dissolution !" Then from out the sun, 
Apollo, like clear lightning, trembled down. 
And from the Olympian ground, with hasty 

steps, 
I followed after ; neither would the earth 
Nor yet the thin-spun curtain of the night 
Shield me, and so I passed into the air. 
The rest you know ; how by fierce madness 

driven 
With wings outworn, day after day, we fled, 
Seeking for aught but immortality. 
Until our hearts at such protracted flight 
Felt pangs and torments not to be retold ; 



Jupiter Fallen. 43 

And then, far down, slow breaking into sight 
Through faded amethyst of silent skies, 
Clear in a drift of white sublunar light, 
The earth lay hugely hurled, while round its 

side, 
The sunlight slanted down the dark blue ocean, 
As o'er a granite dial. Light of lights ! 
The earth, our ancient earth I Then downward 

falling, 
We sought old Neptune's vacant palaces, 
To hide us deep even from our very souls. 
I will arise no more ; for I have known 
The cold pulse of a god in overthrow. 
Even as Saturn feared when at the last, 
Half prone upon yon mountain's highest slope, 
He strove against high heaven with white face 
And hands that sought to grasp the walls of 

light, 
And eyes expressionless. Below, the sea 
Plunged hueless waves, throwing off vapors wan 
To mark the lightning's dread result. The 
wood 
Burned with a fury and a heat unknown 



44 Jupiter Fallen. 



Before that time : but there has come another 
To make the victor scorn his victories, 
And the proud heart renounce its hauglitiness. 
If any urge me onward, I shall liate him, 
For I am weary of all things but rest. 

Time. 

Then thou shalt have thy wish — rest, deepest 

rest. 
Clouds, summer-wrought on skies of clearest 

blue, 
Shall make sweet shadowings of lawn and wood; 
And there to thee shall come light-winged 

Sleep. 
There is a world upon the verge of air, 
In its grey, and as yet, imperfect morn. 
Born in the halls of chaos, ere the light 
Came from its hiding place within the deep. 
Or youthful nature showed her kindly face. 
While charmed silence stretched its boundless 

wings 
Along the starless, stormless atmosphere. 
Lip-tied and breathless, waiting for a dawn. 



Jupiter Fallen. 45 

This world I give to you for years undying. 
At this night's darkest hour, when in the north 
Strays forth the dragon and the Pleiades 
Are set in light of interstellar space, 
I will direct you on your way. Till then 
Let me remain apart in lonesomeness 
And still my pained heart throbbing soberly 
Against the cold side of Cithaeron, 
Or where the streams loved by primeval wood- 
lands 
Bear the bright leaves silently out to sea. 

{Exit Time.) 
Jove. 

There walks the grandest counselor of heaven ! 
A soul of quiet power— a crownless king! 

Apollo. 
He shakes his head and stares hard at the earth. 

Jove. 

Beneath his silver mantle's straitened folds. 
He bears a heart heavy with voiceless grief. 
May destiny be light upon his head ! 



46 Jupiter Fallen. 



'Tis said he was in Saturn's blissful reign 
Bright as the envied prince, Hyperion — 
Tall regent of the sun. Now his old voice, 
Shaking a little, answers solemnly 
With lips a-tremble, as when e'er the wind 
Questions a cavern-entrance with a moan. 
While all around the summer woods are still. 
Now forth into the wilderness he goes 
At sorrow's mild remonstrance to all speech, 
Where none may mar his unknown revery. 
Here will we wait his coming at the hour, 
And that which now is hid shall be made light. 

Scene HI. 

The Earth. 

What a wild ungovernable emotion 
Fills the billows of the boundless ocean, 

Echoing along its azure seas! 
Is it but the voices that awaken 
When the deep is by the dawn o'ertaken. 

Or the laughter of the nereides? 

All the fine and tragic winds are ringing 
When they hear the music of your singing, 



Jupiter Fallen. 47 



For their hearts are melted at the sonfr ; 
Then, O, sweep again the joyful measure, 
For my soul imparadised in pleasure. 

Thus would evermore be borne along. 

The Sea. 
Mine are all the throng of echoing voices. 
Mine is the bright spirit that rejoices 

In the motion of the salient waves, 
In my star-dawns and my twilight shadows, 
In the sea-flowers of my ocean meadows, 

In the faint light of my purple caves. 

The Earth. 
All my springs and jo)'ous sunny fountains, 
Born amid my snow-en jeweled mountains. 

White and eager from their headlands leap. 
For they feel a spell that overawes them 
And a mighty impulse ever draws them 

To the ceaseless murmur of the deep. 

Voice from the Mountains. 
All my ice-clad minarets and towers, 
All my cedars and my cypress bowers, 



4<S Jupiter Fallen, 



Cool and still in every deep recess 
Feel the universal inspiration, 
And their ancient wail of lamentation 

Leaps into a shout of happiness. 

The Earth. 

Laugh, O, billows, beaming in your brightness 
Laugh, O breezes, crystalline in lightness, 

Pine and cypress and dark cedar tree ! 
For within my ancient heart forsaken, 
Visions of new happiness awaken. 

And the golden years again to be. 



Jupiter Fallen. 49 



ACT III. 

Scene I — Three spirits are seen on Alt. Olympus 
— Night. Enter Messenger of Time. 

Messenger. 
Spirits of roving storms, 

Haste to your skies again ! 
Light with your golden forms 

The crystal fields of rain ! 
Now in the concave deep 

The lightnings' latest gleam 
Tunnels with thunderous echoes 

The whirlwinds mighty stream. 
Now o'er the mountains desolate 
Storm-chariots, rough-fronted, wait 
Their charioteers ; nor more can they 
Keep the tornado back. Away! Away! 

First Spirit. 

I will bear the shifting rains that move about 
in vague unrest, — 



50 Jupiter Fallen. 



In the dim light upward borne they blur 
Hymettus' faded crest, — 

Where the bright Eurotus hears the mellow- 
throated Dorian pipe, — 

Through the orchards of Laconia in the silence 
waxing ripe ; 

Where the locks of vagrant wings are odorous 
from field and plain. 

The wild grapes will drain their fragrance in 
the mild Boeotian rain. 

Second Spirit. 

I will sow the shining hail that whitely slants 

through open air ; 
Its black locks are blown on high, its icy 

teeth are white and bare. 
Trample on the wineless clusters, blast the 

olive in the leaves. 
And the sallow, milky grains will bring but 

thin and worthless sheaves; 
All the land shall be my winepress and my 

sandals white shall beat 



Jupiter Fallen. 5 



Heavily through reeling winds that whirl the 
vapors round my feet. 

Third Spirit. 

Where the golden lightnings fall Olympus' 

hollow caverns moan ; 
I will lead them, I will guide their pale fires in 

the dark alone; 
And the mountains scar'd and bleak shall know 

the furnace of my breath, 
Kindling all night long the wood-lands with its 

splintered bolts of death. 

All. 

Haste away! far round the east above the 

vapor's purple wall, 
Th' moon one moment peers, and lights the 

silver-misted waterfall. 
Now the ghostly storm drives by, the citrine 

orb blurs to its death, 
Typhoons rend the sky above, the stagnant air 

is choked beneath. 
How we reel and laugh and whirl and slant o-ur- 



52 Jupiter Fallen. 



stormy wings to find 
Each car rant with golden wheels down the 
mute hollows of the wind. 

Scene II — Place, Olympus. Time, Midnight. 

The Old Gods. 

Jove. 

Once more we stand upon this regal mount, 
Glorious of old and ever glorious; 
Not met in council as when oft of old 
We drank th' unmeasured cup of happiness. 
But this is past and lost for evermore. 
This night we take our last farewell; and I, 
Who long have ruled the tides of men and days, 
And greatly suffered since my former flight, 
Would rule no longer. Speak, enduring Time, 
Where shall I now direct this form in flight 
Engulfed within the boundless empyrean, 
Forlastingworlds which thou hast promised me 
For years unending? 

Time. 
Look where yonder star 
Below the Pleiads and our own dark world 



J lip iter Fallen. 53 



Shines brightest 'mid his fellows ! thitherward, 
On wings of light, make short the horrid deep, 
Nor pause to tread its silver battlements ; 
But from this star, — a faded azure orb,^ 
Above thee and beyond will then appear 
A planet mild and radiant as the moon 
Now shines beyond the blue-browed Dorian 

hills. 
The season changes not nor rougher storms 
Invade; but every wind that blows upheaves 
Sounds clear as airs ethereal, earnestly 
Blown from the lifted mountain-crest, adown 
Through shadowed groves of boxwood odorous, 
Or by cold grottoes of the summer sea. 

The old deities begin their flight, Jove hovers 
above the earth and cries back in a loud voice. 

Jove. 

F'arewell, old earth! thy joints of granite huge 
Keep thee forever. Farewell, shapes of sea, 
Groan for inhabitants! The sky above 
Will send thee down the lightning as of old. 



54 Jupiter Fallen. 



Time ! Father Time ! raise up thy frosty head ! 
Why shouldst thou hnger in this wilderness? 
Can earth, the ancient, yet be dear to thee? 
Thou'rt old, ay! old if centuries were years! 
And the world's winter-time will weigh thee 

down. 
Come thou with us, and spread thy silver wings 
Upon the starry tract ! Thy misty planet 
Is as a tomb that has received its corse, 
O'er which no flowers will spring tho' the warm 

winds 
Weep their wild spirits out forever more. 

Time. 
Ha! Yes; old, ay, and smitten like the brow 
Of Ossa, but within me yet remains 
One principle, unknown to men and gods, 
Of multiplied endurance which upholds 
My empire unassailable forever. 
The hot tide of my blood still surges on 
Unchilled by this gigantic weight of years ; 
Its vastness grey and awful still I poise 
Cloudlike upon the measure of my will. 



Jupiter Fallen. 55 

But far withdrawn on leagues of storm and sun, 
And golden mists to veil thy flight, if thou 
From thy adventurous way find days of rest, 
Recurring seasons round thee oft expanding 
To rich fulfillment of the varied days, 
Pledge me in that enchanted overflow 
Of grapes well ripened, red of wind and sun, 
In clustered splendor fit for men and gods. 
I yet remain — a name — a useful end 
Of far necessity and restless change. 
My temple is the plane wherein is wrought 
All things that happen in the days or nights. 
So I am held apart; yet when the earth 
Burns and consumes its ashes in the air, 
Until I stand on grey and endless void 
Wherein my ancient world was swallowed up. 
Then will I stretch this withered form in flight, 
My great heart panting even to its death 
To seek thee, and if I shall come to thee 
I know not yet and care not yet to know, 
For I am regent on the throne of time. 



$6 Jupiter Falleii. 



First Stirit. 

We are spirits 

Who with clouds and hail and driven sleet 
Oft contendini:^, find no rest in nature ; 

On the liquid gales we set our feet, 
On the storm clouds without form or feature. 
We are voices, 

High above the homes and fields of men ; 
We are gathered, — 

Scattered on the sharp-rent winds again. 

Second Spirit. 

We are spirits. 

Through the cloudy monarchy of Night 
Free to roam its boundless void and vastness, 

Swaying with our starry wings in flight 
The red roses of the sunset's fastness. 
We are voices, 

But no echo rouses at our tone, 
Though all nature 

With her voice keeps measure with our own, 



Jupiter Fallen. $7 

Chorus. 

Who on the bosom of night 

Drives by us so breathless and fast, 

Scattered like stars in their flight 
Or leaves on the dissonant blast? 

Who in the darkness have cast 

Their forms to the tempest's sharp might ? 

Voice. 

See, all the dimness cast upon the hour 
Is but a passing cloud that drifts away 
From out the ethereal regions of the night, 
Like slowest thought, or some unwelcome 

guest 
Departing; but the passing forms you see, 
Reft of a light once theirs, drift by as shapes 
That creep upon us sleeping. Seest thou 
Yon cloud-like chariot buffeting the wind, 
And he who guides leaning with eager look? 
A diver gazing o'er the pearl-clad deep 
Would even thus shade his experienced eyes. 
And fear ye not lest he should look upon you 



58 Jupiter Fallen. 



And so destroy you? If he were my judge, 
What terror would I feel to hear him speak. 

Chorus. 

Listen, now, I hear, I hear, 
Wings that scatter music clear, 
Like the mystic wind-song olden 
Of Aeolia, the golden ; 
Blown with many a grateful close, 
Rising, trembling, to repose ; 
Of all sounds of music clear. 
Now afar, and now anear, 
Rising, falling, failing, dying. 
Till the mind finds no replying. 

Third Spirit. 

His eyes are on the broad, bright star 

That glitters into sight : 
An eagle in the clouds afar, 

Pants on with weakening flight, — 
Across the imperial shoulder sways 
A robe of starlight's silver rays. 



Jupiter Fallen. 59 

The curtain of the night is torn, 

The moonh'ght wavers in, 
And from the far earth upward borne, 

I hear a mellow din 
Of rushing steeds and ringing spears 
And cries of countless charioteers. 

First Spirit. 
'Tis but the earthquake through the rocks, 

The storm-winds rushing full 
Fill every cave ; the raging shocks 

Swift and immeasurable, 
Rend half the mount in twain and hurl 
Each shattered crag that gleams like pearl. 
\^PJiantoni of Mars arises. 

Phantom. 

From earth's bleak night I came; 

I may not linger here. 
Ask not my ancient name, 

But shroud thine eyes in fear. 
An impulse bears me up 

Through everlasting skies ; 



6o Jupiter Fallen. 

I hear a noise of shouting 
That bids my soul arise. 



The shifting breezes toss 

Jove's eagle as he rides 
With level wings across 

The night-wind's fleeting tides ; 
The mountain's sparkling snows 

Are faint with morning light, 
But we, who are as shadows. 

Seek yet the passing night. 

[ Vanishes. 
Voice. 

The moon above the mountain top rides high, 
Empress of all the stars, but the deep East 
Upon its shadowed glass reflects the god 
Who yet lies dreaming on his lotus leaves 
Afloat upon the pearly waves of light. 
And on the sea-shore's bold, cloud-trailing 

steeps. 
Misty and darkened, on whose caverned sides. 
League upon league, loud roll the broken seas. 
Snow-white, electrical, and fathomless, 



Jupiter Fallen. 



6\ 



Descends the dawn, sandaled with vital flakes, 
Like bright star crystals in a wintry day ; 
And underneath, the waves, clear, blue and 

deep, 
Murmuring, mingle in a mighty shout ; 
" Light to the wide and universal world !" 




The Woods. 61 



THE WOODS. 

Wide summer wood, I adore thee! 
Where thy dark branches implore me, 

Nought but an eloquent melody findeth me 
there ; 
Wild note of wood-bird compelleth 
Joy to the lone one who dwelleth 

Deep in thy heart unreserved and boundless 
as air. 

On thy dispassionate spirit 
Lean I, nor care to inherit 

Other of earth 'neath the heaven-arch save 
only thee; 
Never was strife thy companion ; 
Never shall man be thy minion : 

Into thy heart shalt thou take him and he 
shall be free. 

Time-like, in changeless precision, 
Every airy division 



64 TJic Woods. 



Lifts its lone voice to the height where the 
heavens reply, 
Clear as the voice of the ocean, 
Buoyed with an inner emotion, 

Ever and evermore sounding and wandering 
by. 



Boat Song. 65 



BOAT SONG. 

We lightly sail, we lightly sing 
Upon the waters wandering, 
Amid the echoes of the spring. 
Come thou too. 

We will* not heed the boatman's hail, 
The while we drift with eager sail 
Along before the rising gale. 
Come thou too. 

We glimmer up, we glimmer down ; 
We drift along below the town ; 
The peach has on her whitest gown. 
Come thou too. 

Sail swiftly, boat, while blows the breeze, 
With free wdiite sail on sunny seas 
We will not wait for flowers like these. 
Come thou too. 

For youth will ever have his way. 
And spring is love's first holiday ; 



66 Boat Song. 



And the lips of laughter say, 

** Come thou too." 

Then leave the sea-browned boatman slow 

Beneath the sheltered cliff to row, 

While on the sea we swiftly go. 

Come thou too. 



1 



Days of October, ^y 



DAYS OF OCTOBER. 

Cold is the grey north and silent the hill ; 
Woodlands are vacant; the huge trees are still 

And sober. 
Time, the old sexton, weeps over the dust 
r the wide urn of nature, and little we trust 

These days of October. 

Leaden and sunless the low tides are flowing; 
Blood of the forest is falling and blowing 

Here and there : — 
Yet wouldst thou rush from the fate that is 

thine? 
Thy days of sorrow are better than mine 

Of hopeless despair. 

Now are the musky winds eager and soft ; 
PaUid the saffron has grown in the croft 

And the olden 
Leaves of the chestnut to parchment have 

turned, 



68 Days of October. 

Strawberry trailers together have burned 
Green-threaded and golden. 

Rustle and rustle the gold of my vines I 

Soon shall the autumn grow redder with wines 

For the wine-press. 
Song of the goblet and song of the bowl! 
Echo a melody dear to the soul : — 

We heed not the soulless. 

Voice of the swollen clouds icily raining 
Comes on the fitful breeze ever complaining 

And sober; 
Hoarsely the brown old leaves laugh in the 

gust, 
All the while truly 'tis little we trust 

These days of October. 



CartapJiilos. 69 



CARTAPHILOS. 

All day, all night, on wave and land, 

Across the world with burning heart, 
Thro' wastes of frost, on plains of sand, 

I come; I see; and then depart. 
The white-hung arches of the north 

Are as the southern furnace vast ; 
The land for which I journey forth " 

Is as the land that I have past. 

I hate the night ! I hate the day 

That holds me in its arms of fire! 
I cannot rest ! I cannot stay ! 

My weary soul may yet desire 
To be struck out into the dark 

As meteor, borne from its place. 
Cleaves a red channel through the arc 

And dies in unknown depths of space. 

But most I hate with bitter soul 

One thought of that long, crowded street. 



70 Cartaphilos. 



I hear the mighty tumult roll — 

The shouts, the cries, the sandaled feet, 

The legionary's brazen shield. 

The Roman knight with golden crest, — 

The rabble, pouring through the field. 

Around the horsemen thronged and pressed, 

Again the city echoes loud 

With those who run and those who wait ; 
The priests, a little from the crowd. 

Are passing outward through the gate. 
As, through the lonely August night, 

Afar the rushing torrent calls, 
The people cried upon the hight 

And shouted from the city walls. 

My soul was dying to its fate, 

Yet lives, though all the years have grown 
With giant growth, more desolate 

Than Pilate sorrowing alone. 
The glance, the voice, will not depart 

While time rolls on from year to year; 
They feed upon this withered heart 

That wastes not with its weight of fear. 



Cartaphilos. jx 



And when thick midnight filled the day, 

And when the temple's veil was rent, 
I left the city's hateful way, 

I paused not on the battlement, 
I looked not at the wild, black sky ; 

My soul was like a dead leaf hurled 
On roaring tempests rushing high. 

That pause not round the moving world. 



72 When the Grapes are Gathered. 



WHEN THE GRAPES ARE GATHERED. 

Autumn field and bursting mow ! 
Red apples on each yellow bough ! 
Ceres, I will sing thee now 
Of thy month of reaping. 
Crimson is the maple's crest ; 
Golden is the linden's vest ; 
Wander thou from thy rest 
Here and there, east and west, 
While the world is sleeping. 

Misty air and mournful tone 

Where the wild bird singeth lone 

On a solitary throne, 

In the bright leaves hidden ! 

While the drowsy, black-winged crow 

Flies along the ridges low 

Where the red bay-berries grow ; 

He flaps about, to and fro, 

'Gainst the north sky leaden. 



When the Grapes are Gathered. 73 

Purple grapes on trellises ! 
Ripe the wild thorn-apple is ; 
In the fruit we never miss 
Blossoms that have withered. 
Pick the clusters from the vine ! 
Crush the full grapes into wine! 
Other days will see it shine ; 
All is ours, all is thine, 
When the grapes are gathered. 



74 The Voice in the Gales. 



THE VOICE IN THE GALES. 

It is the voice in the gales 

When the sunken light is dim ; 

And the ship at twilight sails 
To the reel of the ocean hymn. 

When the ocean-line is blurred 
Far off with streaks of rain, 

And the tempest's tone is heard 
As it troubles the night again. 

It is the voice in the gales, 

From a vague and spectral deck, 

That all night long bewails 
As a cry from a sinking wreck. 

Now the somber merchantman 

Lies safe in port again ; 
And the whaler northward ran 

On the face of the cold, grey main< 



The Voice in the Gales. 75 

The sailor rests by the mast, 

And the sailor rests in the deep ; 

But they that cry in the blast 
Know neither rest nor sleep. 

I saw the watch as he stood 

With his white hand raised on high : 
And the ice ran in my blood 

At the sound of his hollow cry. 

His eyes shone bright in the dark, 
As long at the storm looked he ; 

And the ship passed out of sight 
Away on the sullen sea. 

'Tis but the voice in the gales 
When the sunken light is dim, 

And the ship througli darkness sails 
To the reel of the ocean hymn. 



76 A Coming Shower. 



A COMING SHOWER. 

O, what has the Autumn told 
The cloud with the crimson fold 
Slow-moving across the sun ? 

And why do the winds laugh louder and rave 
And hurry the light leaves on ? 

Awake on the wind, asleep on the wave, 
Is drifted the Autumn's gold. 

All red is the lake as blood 
Below the dark belt of wood. 
And the rain roars on the hill ; 

The young eagle flies i' the arms of the wind 
And glides with the cloud at will : 

The light of the dying season is rained 
Down into the rushing flood. 



The Libation. yj 



ANACREONTIC ODE. 



THE LIBATION. 

To whatever gods there be 
In the sky or nadir sea, 
Or about the spheres that run 
'Round the border of the sun, — 
Taurus with a ruddy glare 
Gleaming huge thro' southern air, 
Sirius, the clear and white 
Diamond dissolved in light. 
Or the clustered Pleiades 
Silvering the upper seas, — 
This libation will we pour 
In a light-encircled shower. 
On the sun god's yellow robe, 
Trailing wide across the globe : — 
For our fields and first fruits fine. 



78 The Libation, 



Pulse, and grain, and rainbow wine. 
For our herds and wand'ring flocks, — 
Corn-fields wide with rustling shocks. 
Bins of rye and heaps of wheat, — 
Yellow husks beneath the feet ; — 
Where the winds through open doors 
Blow on golcien paved floors. 
For our orchards cool, that stand 
Shadowing the misty land, 
With the apple's polished rind 
Sleek and glowing in the wind, 
Drawing from the earth and air 
Autumn ripeness everywhere. 



A Voice of the Sea. 79 



A VOICE OF THE SEA. 

The wild, salt winds are on the deep — 
They move along the shore ; 

The night is in its heavy sleep : 
The cold sky glitters o'er, 

While ever in the rising gales 

There comes a gleam of whit'ning sails, 
That, down the ocean dropping lower, 

Into the shadows fade and creep. 

Shrill are the voices in the foam 

That cry along the sea. 
And far the distant echoes roam 

Calling aloud to me. 
And at the rising of the dawn 
Over the waters far withdrawn, 

A winged voice unceasingly 
Of one who never more comes home. 



8o November. 



NOVEMBER. 

The fields are dry and brown ; 

November's in the land : 
I walked below the town 

A mile along the sand. 
All along the rocks, 

All along the coast, 
Came a voice of wailing 

As of a spirit lost ; 
Came a voice of wailing 

I could not understand. 
In the shouts along the cliffs. 

In the breaker on the strand ; 
For I thought of the days 

When the heart was glad to live, — 
Of the nights and the days, — 

And I said, *' What can they give?' 
The voice waked in the flags — 

They shook their yellow swords: 
The sea took up the words 

Far off among the crags. 



November. 8 1 



The waves are cold and grey 
That curl along the sand : 

The sunlight dies above the bay — 
November's in the land. 



82 With the Yclhnv Leaf. 



WITH THE YELLOW LEAF. 

Purple-zoned autumn stands 
Deep in wide and fruitful lands; 

Frost is in the air. 
Long winds sweeping silently 
Toss the ghostly heads of rye, 

Slowly swaying everywhere. 

Now the westwind loves the sun, 
Eurus loves Euroclydon, 

But low down to th' earth 
Haner the envious lines of frost, 
And the weak clouds wildly tossed 

\w the isolated north. 

Now uprises the wild tone 

Of trLimpcts in the distance blown 

From the forest shade ; 
While with silent, sandaled feet, 
With poppies red in braided wheat, 

Comes the autumn's dark-eyed maid, 



IVit/i the Yelloiv Leaf. 



Dark-e)^ed goddess, walking slowly! 
As the linden leaves drop lowly, 

At her feet they fall ; 
And she stands among her vines, 
Where the smooth grape clings and twines 

All about the sunny w^all. 

And the dull fruit ripeneth. 

And the old vine, brown in death, 

Springs with buds of green ; 
While the slanted sunlight dapples 
All the orchard's mellow apples 

And the golden leaves between. 

Hasten, hasten who would gather 
Fruitage in the rainless weather, 

Hanging smooth and ripe! 
Round the woodlands thou shalt hear 
The keen breezes blowing clear, 

As a hollow, sylvan pipe. 



84 A ^^^^^J^ of the East. 



A SONG OF THE EAST. 

Looking I saw thee afar, 

By the cedars that grow on the mount ; 
Bright as the front of a star, 
Fair as the Hyades are; 

Ever the youths to the lute 
Thy maidenly splendor recount; 
Why art thou only thus mute 

By the cedars that grow on the mount? 



Wake from thy easeful repose 

And sing the dark cedar his praise, 
Thou of the soul of the rose 

And a voice like the hymn of the days; 
Thou with the eyes whose dark mood 

Thrills with a silent complaining,— 
Violets wild-blown in April's pale wood^ 

Darker through shadowy raining. 



A Song of the East. 85 

Is it the cool moiitit thou lovest, 

Fair maid with the smile of tlie dawn, 
That to its shadow thou movest 

When all the wan stars are withdrawn ? 
Why look where the white city lies 

In a valley of opulent ease, 
Where the grey twilight dies with her half-open 
eyes, 

Amid aisles of low mulberry trees ! 



Wide is thy border of shade, 

O Cedar, and dark is thy form ; 
Thou art loved by the Lycian maid 

And the spirits abroad in the storm. 
Trust not the wind and the rain 

Nor the voice that is low by the fount ; 
They will leave thee and come not again 

To the cedars that grow on the mount. 



86 Tantalus. 



TANTALUS. 

In that dim region whose most perfect light 
Is earth's mild even, and whose hours of night 
Impenetrable cloak their wings around, 
Whose spectral courts scarce know one hollow 

sound, 
Trampled by shades, save when the air intones 
Its hollow syllables with hollow groans 
By sharpest torture wrung; what shade glides 

by, 

Led by retreating shapes that cheat the eye? 
What waters flow? What fountains rise? 

What sound 
Of summer springs, cold-breaking from the 

ground ? 
What fruits around him mock his swiftness 

where 
His fleshless fingers clasp the open air? 
Backward they disappear to yield him room. 
Gleam in the dark or light the purple gloom ; 



Tantalus. 



Red mountain grapes, by warm winds deeply- 
stained, 
The ripened peach and apples crimson-grained ; 
But whence are these thin ashes — whence are 

they, 
As though from burning paper fall'n away? 
Perchance the hand, more quickened by despair. 
Touched their bright globes revealed in flawless 

air ; 
Hollow they prove, dry-centered, cavernous, 
Jove's punishment — the hopes of Tantalus. 
Look, how he bends to drink the rising wave 
That round him spreads from earth's exhaustless 

cave ! 
There comes a change — the dusky wave is gone : 
He kneels dry-kneed upon the level lawn. 
Grant thou, dark Somnus, friend of humankind, 
Respite, repose for this reposeless mind. 
Ah ! no, new echoes mock his eager e^s. 
More vague and hollow grow the sounds he 

hears. 
O, worse than death, — he lies in dreams again ; — 



88 Tantalus. 



The summer skies sate the green lands with 

rain, 
Tlie watercourses in full measure sing 
In the dim forests clearly wandering ; 
Thrice fair the lifted branches round him 

seem :— 
He wakes — to find once more his endless dream. 



Another Dawn. 



SONNETS. 



ANOTHER DAWN. 

Into the land where morning never rises, 
Into the land where day fades not away, 
Beyond earth's pale of manifold disguises, 
As now we watch the slow, dethroned day 
Pass like a barefoot hermit clad in light 
Grey vesture, halting on the sunset stair 
Where Twilight seeks the cloud-roofed lodge 

of Night, 
With western roses in her dusky hair; 
Who would not say farewell to ancient earth 
Ere these few uneventful years are gone, 
Our merr\'making and our days of mirth? 
Who seek repose from ever moving on ? 
Or who would say, weighing its transient 

worth, 
" Turn eastward yet to seek another dawn ?" 



90 TJie Voyager. 



THE VOYAGER. 

\Vei<^li anchor! set the sail as out we run 
Upon the unquiet waters sharply curled ! 
The wind is blowing damp, the ruddy sun 
Stands half-revealed above the dark-browed 

world. 
The flapping pennant in the wayward breeze 
Chides the unequal motion of- the bark, 
The harbor wanes into the leaden arc, 
Stretching beyond the interval of seas. 
Sail, ship! thy builder wrought thee for the 

gale. 
Loose all thy milk-white canvas blowing free, 
Nor in thy winged journey shalt thou fail 
While stout hearts bear thee merry company. 
Fear not that many a rain-awearied sail 
Drifts idl}^ in a wide and open sea. 



HopL 



HOPE. 

When lands are green by woods and mountain 

creeks, 
And April skies are violet-fields of blue, 
And a far sense of life is creeping through 
The misty greyness of earth's faded cheeks; 
When in the wide, green marsh the reed-bird 

sings. 
And deep in heaven chants the blissful lark 
Catching the pallid morning on his wings 
While earth below is lying hushed and dark; — 
Come walking gaily through the shadowed 

lands 
As when the earth was young, O, Hope, and 

gild 

Our pleasures with the magic of thy hands 
Until the world with mirth anew is filled 
And laughter, like a fountain bubbling up, 
Cheers like old wine when Bacchus brims the 
cup. 



92 TwiligJit. 



TWILIGHT. 

The night is coming on apace ; I see 
The cold clouds on the dreary mountain bar 
Stand like lone fisher-wives who look afar; 
While wild winds housed in foam wail mourn- 
fully. 
And languidly the sunbeams thread the wood 
And fret with silver lines the upland grove : 
The early moon, with snowlike light imbued, 
Shows her white field far down yon southern 

cove. 
Then while the village lights begin to burn. 
Glittering keenly in the leafy street, 
And weary toilers through the fields return. 
And shadows creep athwart the mountain's feet ; 
The twilight comes and through the tranquil 

heat 
Strews ashes from the moonlight's silver urn. 



Sleep. 93 



SLEEP. 

Breathe lightly on these eyelids, Sleep, and 

lose 
My spirit to the world soon grown unkind. 
In all the earth, thee only would I choose. 
Call shadows 'round the fever of my mind, 
Like dim archangels robed in darkness deep. 
Not terrible, bright-sworded, but benign 
Sons of eternity, yet all divine. 
Silent around the shadowed throne of sleep. 
No light — no voice — an uneventful calm, — 
No cloud of self, no unrequited love. 
Only a seraph company that move 
To the slow measure of a wordless psalm. 
Only a restful silence breathing wide ; — 
Silence and night in union deified. 



94 Keats. 



KEATS. 

It haunts me yet — ^the book — it haunts me yet. 
How wert thou given o'er to time and fate! 
The world had dreamed not of thy soul so 

great 
When time, unfeeling, came and said, " Forget." 
Forget ! the words are mockery : I see 
Thee crowned forever wMth immortal youth 
Among the nations, and thy day of ruth 
Forgotten ; and the years 'twixt earth and thee 
Are nothing, for thou art a living voice. 
A voice that speaks not sadder for its grief, 
A voice of hope, surpassing our belief, 
That makes the world unwillingly rejoice. 
We weep for thee, though thou art still with us, 
For thou wert great, and earth now sees thee 

thus. 



January. 95 



JANUARY. 

Loose the loud winds, discordant January! 
Little of earth is left thee to despoil, 
Since round the reach of regions solitary, 
Thy predecessor heaped his snow-flake toil. 
His step oft shook the windless stream, slow- 
stealing 
Among the brown banks of its native rest ; — 
Now g'eaming ice slants over, half concealing 
Tiie crystal spirit and the voice suppressed. 
Now the earth trembles wdien she hears thee 

calling. 
And the gales shake the mountain's frosty 

forge : 
Half the low sky is clear ; from half is falling 
The tempest, icy, blurred from its dim gorge. 
The mountain grows in misty ether fine ; 
And blinding clouds wind through bleak groves 

of pine. 



96 Rhyme of the Phantom Death. 



RHYME OF THE PHANTOM DEATH, 

I. 

Vapors rise and fall away 
Round the shadowed earth to-day, 
Roofing white the torrent stream 
Wasted by the upper gleam 
And renewed by the weak breath 
Of the waters underneath. 
Now the lake its mist instills 
Through the woods and silent hills, 
And the earth new life has found 
I'Vom its regions underground, 
Like a pale ghost rising through 
Mountain caverns deep and blue. 
And another spirit still 
Walks by day the sober hill, 
And he seems like marble wan 
That the moonlight falls upon. 
On his forehead, calm and white, 
Rests a coronal of light, 



RJiynie of the Phantom Death. 97 



Formed of sunbeams iiiterwrought, 
Whiter than the clear pearls brought 
From the depth of Indian bay, 
Where the sun with sunken ray 
Vaguely lights the sea-halls on 
With the downward shape of dawn. 
On the wide floors of the plain, 
In the shadows of the rain, 
Vaporous and faded blue, 
Life has wrought itself anew. 

II. 

As the rivers run their courses, 

As the storm-clouds waste their forces 

On the impulse of the air 

Till the sky is dark and bare. 

Comes to-day a deeper change, 

Undiscovered, far, and strange. 

Now upborne on wings of grey, 

Finds the cloud its unknown way. 

So to anchor far withdrawn 

In the misty halls of dawn. 

Flyest thou so far in vain 



98 Rhyme of tJie Phantom Death. 

Over wastes of emerald plain ! 
All thy light and changeful forms 
Shall dissolve in roving storms; 
All thy locks of gold shall be 
Hurried down into the sea. 
On the woody ridge I lie, 
That in mild solemnity, 
Stretches uninhabited, 
All save Echo long have fled : 
She again has wakened most 
Voices that I held as lost. 

III. 

Down among the beeches grey, 
Walks the alienated day. 
By the ruined wall and scarp 
Of the citadel, whose sharp 
Margin-lines seem to inurn 
Half the sunlight in those stern, 
Granite walls forever dumb. 
Like a dark mausoleum. 
Round about the wood is dim ; 
Hueless shades of even swim 



Rhyme of the Phantom Death. 99 

O'er the tawny stargrass blades, 
Through the long, grey colonnades, 
Weaving still their amber spells 
On the rain-browned hazel-shells. 
Westward in the windless sky 
One grey cloud leans silently, 
Like a spirit whose wild hair. 
Upward heaved on pulseless air, 
In that uninvaded height 
Steals the latest sense of light 
Through the blue dome wavering wide. 
And the phantom, drowsy-eyed. 
While her tresses palely burn, 
Leans upon a rigid urn, 
Sealed with twilight's whitest star, 
Silent, steadfast, calm, afar. 

IV. 

In the book, at noon, I read 
When the sunshine overhead, 
Through the pine tree's broken ranks 
Coldly pressed the faded banks. 
Thick with dusky needles strown 



ICX) Rhyme of the Pliant oni Death. 

Over many a fragrant cone, — 
In the book, what shapes were they 
Tliat beguiled my heart away? 
Till I saw weird changes classed 
In the annals of the past, — 
Heard the sounds of marching feet, 
Columns forming in the street, 
Saw the sentry on parade 
By the long, grim barricade ; 
Cannon set on battlements, 
Gleams of swiftly moving tents, 
Councils called in haste, the state 
Vexed with meaningless debate ; 
Helmless soldiers gathered round. 
Stern in feature, war-embrowned, 
Heard the clang of bugles for 
The ingathering of war. 

V. 

Then I saw a legion form 
Like the wide front of a storm, — 
Earth was shaken ; " Liberty " 
Was the herald's sounding cry. 



Rhyme of the Phantom Death. loi 

And their standard overhead 

On the level gale was spread, 

Dark as sunless ebony, 

Intertraced with imagery. 

That inlaid with pale light shone 

Like a polished jasper-stone. 

I beheld one slowly plan 

For the phosphor-minds of man, 

Subtleties as fine as light. 

Where together should unite 

Law and ancient anarchy, 

Knowledge and cold sophistry, 

Like an obelisk on sand. 

Like a torrent, vapor-spanned, 

Roses growing from a skull, 

Frayed with light and beautiful, 

Lilies wreathed around a sword, 

A pale vase with blossoms stored, 

Where 'mid folds of white and blue, 

The dark nightshade glitters through, — 

And the shadowy legion passed 

To the golden bugle blast, 

Of the future terrorless, 



I02 Rliyinc of the PJiantoin Death. 

Confident of sure success, 
As Enceladus shall rise 
Under Etna's azure skies, 
Stained with ashes from the rift 
Of the dead volcanic drift, 
And ascend the highest lines 
Of the wooded Apennines, 
And once more in madness prove 
The uplifted arm of Jove. 

VI. 

In a castle late at night, 

Chained lamps swung shafts of light 

Full in Midnight's face, as he 

Saw a scene of revelry. 

Jangling harps were struck within, 

Voices made a hollow din ; 

Shade and light went softly by 

Over gold and ivory, 

Widening and gleaming o'er 

The dark tessellated floor 

All unseen : against the pane 



Rhyme of the Phantom Death. 103 



Intermittent fell the rain, 

While the guests with little heed 

Drowsed their souls with blissful mead. 

Sin grew dark and Truth looked white 

In the searching maze of light; 

Ghostly Memory was seen 

Under plumes of evergreen ; 

Time was there, and Change, and one 

With a face like April sun. 

Crowned with roses overblown, 

Silent, wordless, and alone, 

Hope, the youngest. Why should he 

Seek such shades for company ? 

VII. 

Sin then cried in a loud voice, 

'' Spectral citizens, rejoice ! 

Fill the cup again and still 

Till it overrunneth fill!" 

Through the doorway, unreproved, 

Came a guest but little loved, 

Came a phantom, and his look 



I04 Rhyme of the Phantom Death. 



Was too cold to be mistook. 
Stilled the clamor, fell the din, 
When beside the dark-browed Sin, 
Sad he leaned and in the train 
Seemed to look for one in vain. 
All the guests within their places 
Leaned, wild-featured, with pale faces; 
In their hands each beaker ^lows 
Like a sun-dissolving rose. 
Then the phantom seized a liarp, 
Smote a chord direct and sharp 
Till each lifted glass restored. 
Rang, deep-sounding, on the board ; 
And a melancholy smile 
Lingered in his eyes the while, 
As his eager fingers stole 
To each string's voluptuous soul. 
Then he sang ; the night complained, 
But within deep silence reigned. 

VIIL 

SONG. 
Midnight, dying, tramples o'er 
Faded roses on the floor: 



Rhyme of the Pliant oui Death. 105 

Quickly gathered, 
Quickly withered, 
These frail pleasures we adore I 

W^e shall go and yet return. 

Sunlight fades — the planets burn ; 

Midnight laughter 

Brmgs hereafter 

Bitter tears upon the morn. 

Yet why weep ? New joys will come 

Ere the inner soul be numb; 

Softly smiling, 

Life beguiling, 

Crimson lips are never dumb. 

Where the first white snowdrop clung, 

Hangs the golden addertongue, 

In the meadows. 

In the shadows. 

And wet woodland banks among. 

Change passed by ; upon her head 
Graceful plumes of pine were spread, 



io6 RJiyuic of the PJiantoni Death. 

But unending, 

Downward bending, 

Grasses whitened 'neath her tread. 

When the silent even closes 

Over gardens of red roses, 

Is the night full 

Of delightful 

Music sweet and sweet reposes ; 

'Tis the mournful nightingale 

From his station in the vale, 

And his singing 

Ever ringing 

In the night-wind's stifled wail : 

And an answer sad, perchance, 

To the music of the dance. 

Whispered lowly. 

Echoed slowly 

With a clearer utterance. 

If we laugh or if we weep, 
If we watch or fall asleep. 



Rhyme of the Phantom Death. 107 

Earth rolls: Hesper 

Burns at vesper, 

Leaning o'er his yellow deep. 

Fill the crystal cup with port I 

Every greybeard's breath is short ! 

And good sherry 

Makes us merry. 

Wine is now our last resort. 

What was then, and what is now ? 

What am I, and what art thou ? 

Nations slumber 

Without number 

On the earth's unending brow. 

Though we join them in a day. 

Let to-night be cast away! 

None will weep thee. 

Call or keep thee ; 

Time will too have naught to say. 

Earth yet stands to give thee room, 
Glow-worms light thee to thy home ; 



lo8 Rhyme of the Phantom Death. 

From thy sleeping, 

Void of weeping, 

Thou shalt never seek to roam. 

With his pahn beneath his cliin, 

Sits my mask-hid brother. Sin I 

Such fair seeming 

Hides a gleaming, 

White and lidless skull within. 

Mild his tongue's persuasive tone- 

'Tis the skull that speaks alone — 

When thy tasted 

Joys are wasted, 

He will leave thee to thine own. 

IX. 

Suddenly the voice grew still, 
But the harp rang on until 
A dim hand upon its strings 
Drowsed their low imaginings. 
Shadows of pale purple mist, 
Lengthened into amethyst. 
Soon began to creep and press 



Rhyme of the Phantom Death. 109 

By in changeful helplessness ; 
Every face in wan despair 
Blurred into the meager air. 
Still the lamps swung till the night 
Wore away their faithless light ; 
Till the storm died on the pane 
And the winds came not again. 
But the slender moonbeams sheer, 
Slanting at the windows clear, 
Faltering along the hall, 
Found the guests departed all, 
Found the wreaths disordered strown 
And the goblets overthrown. 

X. 

In the pale, electric sky, 
The last crimson roses die ; 
There is left now scarce a sigh 
To the night-winds as they fly ; 

And the keen, wide air has caught 
A slow opiate ; and thought 
Yields unto its pleasing tide, 
Lightly dreaming, open-eyed. 



